For Country and Men
by hippiechick2112
Summary: The kidnapping of General Burkhalter had serious consequences to it. For the former prisoners of what is now Stalag 13, the answers to their questions might be within not just this man, but also in their pasts.
1. The Kidnapping

**For Country and Men**

**Note and Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own the characters of Hogan's Heroes, but I do own all of the created characters in the story (and thank everybody that this show was created). While Colonel Michalovich is featured in this story as a character, she is not the narrator, but someone new telling the story. I somehow actually got this idea from a previous Hogan's Heroes that I wrote ("Crash Landing", now edited to my satisfaction somewhat and corrected mostly), something that I had been thinking about for a while today. After all, what _was_ Stalag 13 before it held prisoners of war from various air forces…?**

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><p>Hammelburg, Germany, April 21, 1944: a warm and breezy spring night it was, one that could not tell of our plans, not even in a whisper. I looked out of my binoculars, waiting for our intended target – a Kraut General – and sighed. He was running late, as usual (probably eating all of the caviar and drinking all of the wine he wanted). He was also coming out from Stalag 13, where Papa Bear – Colonel Robert Hogan – was. And he and his men were supposed to get him out of the camp early so that we could kidnap him and our plan comes into action.<p>

Our target for the kidnapping: General Albert Burkhalter, in charge of the Luft-Stalag administration in Hitler's Nazi Germany.

Our goal in this abduction: to teach the Germans a lesson in humility and to warn them of the power of the past, both people and events.

"Gerald, do you see anything yet?" My friend in the Nazi Resistance (different from the Underground, but we connect occasionally), Julius, asked me as I put down my binoculars once more. "What did Helga say to you earlier, when you visited her before she went to work for that insolent colonel?"

"My sister said nothing to me about much," I replied, somewhat sharply, especially when someone mentioned my little sister working in danger. "She told me about some of the prisoner activities, about the female prisoner's new activities –"

"Female prisoner? There should be no such thing at Stalag 13! It's unbelievable!"

I sighed with frustration, knowing the whole story, but not wishing to share anything with Julius. He knew that I had Russian connections, since my mother was one, and that one of her more recent friends happened to be the father of the woman at Stalag 13. In turn, I knew the stories about her, I knew the circumstances of her spying career and I knew the woman somewhat (an annoying little hellcat, for sure). I just don't like to share anything.

For, after all, being a Jew in Germany – and working on the Resistance after being a prisoner – was no laughing matter. Even more dangerous was spying on the camp that used to be my home for many months, along with Helga. Escaping, we changed identities and got normal jobs, remained in Germany to help take down the regime and have hoped for a better tomorrow.

"Well, then…tell me more about Helga." Julius licked his lips, for sure picturing my blonde secretary sister who changed her name and took the role of being a German Aryan woman who served Germany well. She was so secretive about her identity that even _she_ played her part very well, not even celebrating our holidays and festivals anymore, taking on her new role completely. Such a dangerous nature to do so, I should think, but it saved her so many times before.

"Why should I?" I asked as a response, annoyed still at this…womanizer…that I have had to work with for some years now. "We have a mission to carry out and all I hear from you is what my sister said or you asking me what she said. I'm sorry, but she is a single woman and I don't want her looking at the likes of you for quite a while! I didn't tolerate Hogan at her throat. Why should I let you have a go?"

"Well, while _I_ was down at the tunnels once, she was the manicurist and she was _perfect_ at her job at that barbershop. I loved it, especially when I was down there last and asking for a complete makeover, for when I traveled through Germany, on assignment to get Hitler and assassinate him…"

"I don't want to hear it, Julius, and I had better –"

"Hey, wait, is that a car I hear?" Julius interrupted my rant and hushed me quickly, the crickets of spring masking our movement in the bushes. "Shh, Gerald! I think General Burkhalter's car is coming!"

I quickly took the binoculars and looked down the road, trying to figure out where the noises came from. Left and right, I searched meticulously, cursing Julius' superb hearing (and sight, I must add, because he claimed the car was coming from the right), until I saw the small cloud of dust down the road, on the right like he said. Yes, it was a car. Yes, it looked important. And _yes, _it was General Burkhalter's car, as I saw that fat tub of lard sitting in the back. I even saw the license plate number immediately and grinned.

"I guess Hogan and his men came out this time," Julius hissed with contempt (for this Burkhalter, most likely, as do we all, or for the Germans in general), taking his gun out of his canvas bag, putting the silencer on and aiming for the car's tires. "I hope the General likes his dessert cold tonight…"

"Wait a moment," I cautioned, still watching the car drive, but it was usually in vain. Julius did things his way, always had a way out when he was in trouble and was awarded for his efforts…usually. Hogan also liked to lecture him on his recklessness.

Julius, without thinking, then fired his gun, aiming true and hitting Burkhalter's car tire as his driver skidded towards our hiding spot. Sliding and stopping, in control of the car mostly, the driver put the vehicle on its brakes and turned it off as it halted, coming out of the car and looking at the tire that was hit.

"You fool! What is wrong with it now?" We heard Burkhalter yell at his driver and some muttering from his fat, shiny lips afterward.

"I think the tire has been…well, destroyed somehow, Sir," the driver replied. "We need to put the spare on."

And that was our cue, center stage and ready to play our parts.

Taking out my gun, I jumped out of the bushes (dropping my binoculars in the process), with Julius behind me, and put the gun to the driver's head in a warning motion. He then immediately saw what was going on and put his hands up in surrender.

"You won't be needing to fix that tire anymore now," I said threatening, menacingly.

Julius, in the meantime, had taken the General out of his car and dragged him on his knees onto the dirt road. Muttering phases which I could not understand (something about him being a filthy Kraut, which was normal), Julius had Burkhalter _begging_ for his life in whimpering tones, whiny words that told us how much he valued his life more than ever before.

"What do you want from me? Money? Positions? Medals? You can have them! You can have them! Just let me go!" Burkhalter folded his hands in a prayer-like stance, like the little Christian that he probably wasn't, one of the many Lutherans that condemned our people in Germany.

"Go," I commanded the driver, who ran off in the direction of Stalag 13 (Julius had thought to kill him off, but I said we needed somebody to tell that fool, Klink, that Burkhalter was kidnapped, the note for a "ransom" to be sent later). Then, to Burkhalter: "We want nothing, General Burkhalter…just you. And only you."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Burkhalter looked like he was about to cry, knowing that he was probably about to meet his Maker if he didn't do what we told him to do.

"He means," Julius said, "that we only want you and _only_ you. We don't need Klink. We don't need anybody else. Just _you_."

"I-I-I don't understand…" Burkhalter started.

"All and all, General, I think we'll come to an understanding soon enough," I replied, nodding as two more men from the Nazi Resistance came to pick up the General. "Just when we need answers, you'll be there."


	2. Consequences of the Rash Actions

For the rest of the night, the first night we had Burkhalter, we heard sirens from the S.S. and Gestapo cars, most likely looking for General Burkhalter. We did hear our Major Hochstetter enough times and his Gestapo goons stopped by (even though they were more in tune to sabotage, being their specialty and all), but found nothing of importance and moved on. After all, our "hideout" just outside of Hammelburg – dark, damp but accommodating enough for an apartment – echoed these pleas for reassurance and safety, ignoring the screams of fright that often come when somebody important was missing.

I mean, we had thought initially that Burkhalter was _somewhat_ of a deal (he was a General, after all), but did not realize how powerful he really was. Or how closer to power he was, I should say, considering how he scrambled initially to say how much he would do for us if we let him go.

For the night, though, we let the General sleep on the floor in the spare room of the hideout (the hidden door to the spare room was in a closet), hoping that he would stop his whiny noises in time. He did and eventually slept when the Gestapo came by, but during the course of the next day, he paced his small prison quietly. He even asked for food and drink reasonably enough when I visited him and was calm, so it gave our second-in-command, Richard, a reason to trust him…to some extent.

"We shouldn't," Julius argued him, his mind off of women for once. "Once a Nazi, always a Nazi. You can't trust them, Richard. You can't trust any of them! And that's the point of him being quiet and corporative. He _wants_ us to believe that he'll behave and, when we give him more freedom, we'll be given away to the Gestapo."

I agreed with Julius, but Richard had the final word. "So, we've been told again and again that we can't trust the Nazis. But, we now have one of theirs within our hands. Once we know we can trust him, he might trust us in return. However, we have to show how _sincere_ we are in order to have that. And to have that trust means we can have Burkhalter do anything we want him to do. It also means that we can easily manipulate him and have our way, including having an easy way to kill him."

_That_ ended the conversation.

Finally, when the sun set on the first day, the three of us – Richard, Julius and I – sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for night to come before we talked about anything else, eating quietly. Since we knew that the other two men who lived here were working at the factory, we were assured of being alone except for Burkhalter, and he couldn't hear us…or our coming visitor.

Without words, we continued our nightly routine of eating dinner and then feeding Burkhalter, who generously (and humbly, I must add) thanked us for his meal. Afterward, dishes were washed in the old tub (soap was rare and we only had water) and put away. Then, after lighting a candle and settling down again at the table, we heard a familiar knock. Julius went to answer it, but was almost knocked over as Hogan came in, angry. None of his other men were behind him.

Richard and I stood up in greeting, but were silenced when Hogan started talking.

"Are you all insane and need a head check?" Hogan asked us a little loudly as he motioned that all three of us sit down again. Julius was quick in taking his seat before Hogan got to him again while Richard and I obeyed slowly, resuming out old positions at the chairs.

Then, sitting down with us, Hogan continued. "We delayed Burkhalter at Stalag 13 because we thought that you three would have the sense _not_ to kidnap him. We detained him temporarily so that he would be warned stop his own side actions instead of hearing it from some crazy side group. We thought that your revenge didn't _include_ kidnapping him at all!"

"But, Hogan –" Richard began.

"Don't!" Hogan shook his head. "I can't stay here long enough, as it is. Colonel Michalovich is holding the men down and she's upset as it is. She can't keep up the façade much longer if Hochstetter decides to come back and do some bed check because Klink won't tonight. Not to mention, Hochstetter himself has been keeping an eye on Klink especially and is thinking about putting him away, since Burkhalter was at Stalag 13 last before he 'disappeared'. And, already, _we've_ been questioned about Burkhalter."

"We just follow orders, Colonel Hogan," I replied, somewhat embarrassed by what we were putting the operation at Stalag 13 through already (and me, I even didn't realize how much, my rage had blinded me so). "We were told to kidnap Burkhalter and so, we did it. We have our own reasons for it –"

"Which include revenge, like I've said," Hogan argued. "Just because Burkhalter was in charge of what Stalag 13 used to be before the war doesn't _mean_ you take revenge upon him and show up the Nazis. Burkhalter keeps Klink at Stalag 13 to keep him out of action, if you can believe that. Klink unknowingly keeps our tunnel system alive. And if some hot shot takes his place in that General's position, because you've killed him off or sent him to England for following orders from a higher order in your group, then we might have Klink and Schultz replaced. And we can't afford to have that."

"Burkhalter _knew_ what he was doing, Colonel, and did it with relish," Richard hissed, his own anger at being scolded apparent as he hit the table with his fist. "This plan has been carefully researched for many years now. He knew that, somebody, the former inhabitants of Camp 13, would come back to haunt him for all of the torture he put us through. After all, thirteen is an unlucky number and to be on the other end would –"

"I don't think they need to be cursed, too, Richard," Julius interrupted. "I think Hogan has enough to handle, as it is. They're already in hot water because of us."

"Stop it!" Richard shook his own head, the dark ringlets of black hair waving with some emotion. "Superstition won't get us anywhere, so shut up. Now, Hogan, listen up. We have intentions to return Burkhalter to his original position."

"The way you're going about it doesn't suggest it," Hogan replied skeptically, with some acid to his tones. And I knew his suspicions. We _didn't_ have intentions of bringing Burkhalter back and I knew that Hogan saw it, even through Richard's usual poker face.

"Well, this time, we don't have Klink. We have Burkhalter." Richard's eyes lit up. "And he's worth a _lot_ more than we suspected. Maybe, this time, we can have an _even_ prisoner exchange, for, let's say, the one person that can lead the Germans to our very own Nimrod, whose identity is now in danger."

"Cush? The Germans captured him a few days ago and are thinking about executing him as a spy already. You can't be thinking of exchanging one agent for a German General?! They weren't interested last time. What makes you _think_ they will this time?" Hogan's anger looked like it was about to flare up again just when he calmed down enough.

"But, is Burkhalter also worth another prisoner?" Julius reminded us. "Remember, not only was Cush taken prisoner in Dessau, but also Ham, his father. So, we have to tread _carefully_ on this one. They're suspected as Jews, so they could be sent to any of the camps and just gassed when they arrive. They're also on charges of espionage, so it's a guarantee that sudden death by a firing squad or hanging is in their future, if not a trip to the camps. Either way, if we can't use Burkhalter to our own means, then we can't get what we want."

"Exactly," Richard said. "So, be patient, Hogan. We'll work something out. I can send Gerald here to drop off the letter of exchange to the Hammelburg Gestapo office. We want their General Burkhalter for our agents Cush and Ham."

Hogan didn't look convinced of Richard's intentions, but sighed. He was trapped, in a way, if he wanted to keep Stalag 13's operation alive. He had to trust us, as he had to from the beginning. I knew that I had his ear, as well as Richard's. Maybe I could use this to my advantage and get this situation over with? Maybe I could mend something that they could not?

"I don't think it'll –" I started to say, as if to get the attention of both.

"We'll wait and see," Hogan interjected, doubt lining his voice, even if he didn't know what I was going to say. "If this gets too hot, I'm going to have to somehow get Burkhalter out of this situation and right everything before we're all killed. I can't afford the lives of my men. I also can't afford to have Stalag 13 used in such a manner. We're not an agency for this kind of personal means."

"But –" Richard started.

"But nothing!" Hogan got up, indicating that he was leaving. "I've wasted enough time here already. So, Richard, I suggest that you do something _quickly_ before something happens or Burkhalter is going to be released in a forced manner, by _us_. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, Colonel," Richard muttered, also getting up. "Let me show you to the door."

Julius and I watched as the two went to the door, still fighting in lowered tones, and then flickered our eyes over the small drama. Hogan had lingered in the doorway for a minute this way, but then left, as if putting in his last word before Richard said anything else, much else scheme any more stupid plans. Richard had, in the meantime, turned his face beet red, to a shade that I did not want to cross.

As things became quiet finally and Richard stomped away from the closed door and to his room, shutting the door rather loudly behind him, Julius and I looked to each other again. We had almost no words to say to each other either, afraid that our second-in-command would hear us, so whispered quickly. We couldn't afford to the new doubt to him just yet.

"Do you think we should head to Stalag 13 tomorrow then?" Julius asked me.

"I don't know if Oscar Schnitzer is exchanging the dogs out tomorrow or not," I replied, somewhat apprehensive and anxious about heading back to _that_ place.

"If not, we can always go there ourselves." Julius was argumentative, persuasive even. "After all, didn't Klink always complain that the wiring and fences needed to be fixed?"

I smiled broadly, forming an idea in my mind. "Those fences need to be fastened down, too. After all, we can't have _all_ the prisoners escaping, can't we?"

Julius knew what I meant. "And we can visit Helga, too, if she's in."

"I'm sure she is…I'm sure she'll be in tomorrow."

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><p><strong>By spring of 1944, most of Germany had been bombed by the Allies and most of its inhabitants moved to different locations (mostly into the countryside). For the sake of this story, Hammelburg has not suffered quite the same fate yet, although I'm sure that it would have been already.<strong>

**As everybody remembers, Nimrod was the agent mentioned in the Season 4 episode, "The Missing Klink". Although the definition of the word usually means being an idiot or simpleton, it also means to be dedicated and skilled in hunting. In the Christian Bible, in Genesis 10: 8-12, Nimrod was a hunter, a great-grandson of Noah (his father was Cush, his grandfather Ham, who was Noah's son). He was also said to have enlarged a kingdom (Babel) called Nimrod (in Assyria), but it Biblical scholars also think Nimrod might be a group of people, not just its leader.**


	3. Fixing the Fence

**I'm going to be doing a little ranting here. I do ask for your patience and such, but I don't mind if you skip this. However, this message is mainly for the stupidity that comes with this fandom.**

**I originally had give up on this story, because everybody is extremely negative and picky, but since I've been trying to finish all of my stories, I've been giving this another shot, as with the rest of my stories unfinished here. I've also been posting more "Hogan Heroes" stories and one shots, so I figured that all of the negativity on this particular page has passed. I've had nothing but good people telling me how to construct my writing better and pointing out where to improve and telling me how good it all is.**

**And that's all I want. It's call CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. I don't want some "Who cares?" review and yelling about a silly spelling mistake or complaining about how this website blows. SERIOUSLY! You have an issue with what I write, take it up with me using PM, not a review. You have an issue with this website, get out of here and get a life. If I get another nasty review or something picky (to the nasty extreme) one more time, I will report your review.**

**I'm trying to work out the details of the story and had it all in my head before negativity came into my life again and I shot down every idea and almost gave up on this particular fandom. So, for all of your naysayers out there: SUCK IT UP! I AM HERE TO BE PROUD OF WHAT I WRITE, NOT LISTEN TO YOUR LAME EXCUSE OF A PUT DOWN!**

**Thank you and please review like all should be doing.**

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><p>Klink knew who Julius and I were already, seeing as how we've been fixing his fences and wires for two years now (as well as making a new amends so that prisoners could lift the fence to escape), so it was easy to walk in and inspect them all. Klink was hovering behind us, his riding crop shaking to show us his anxiety, but we told him that there was no need to fear and that we were just repairmen, as always. When I took Klink aside and told him that we were on his side, to reassure him, Julius clipped a few wires secretly. Afterward, when the inspection was over, we pointed them out to the Kommandant and, worried about a prisoner escape, he agreed to pay a small fine for us to check out the premises and fix any other holes.<p>

"General Burkhalter, if he were here, would approve," Klink declared before having the guards fetch our tools and asked them to leave us alone.

"I bet," I muttered, taking the tools from the guards and starting on our work, which began in a corner of the camp, where there was little activity and little guard watches.

A few hours later, an enlisted black man from Hogan's barracks came up to us in that corner, someone I remembered from missions before. Initially, though, this time his cover was to come over and offer some cigarettes, which he did and we accepted, but as time passed and we took our quick break, the black man took us to a blind spot and smoked with is. While it was quiet for those few next moments, while the guards happily went their way, it was finally time to have that conversation Julius and I have been wanting to have.

"Colonel Hogan is wondering what you two are doing here," the black man asked us, smoking in-between his words. "He thought that he said what he needed to say last night."

"I want to let him know that we're not exactly on Richard's side, if you know what we mean," Julius replied, taking another puff.

"_Ja_," I added. "We wanted to see if we can pull off another meeting, but somewhere else and not where we are living. Richard is watching the General today, so we have the time to meet tonight. Besides, with him not around, we can speak more freely."

"Just what do you think kidnapping a general would do to help our cause?" the black man asked, the same question that Hogan was demanding to be answered the night before.

"Richard and our first-in-command want revenge," Julius revealed for certainty, repeating last night's answers and more to come. "Burkhalter held us all hostages before the war, before this camp turned into what it is now. Richard is still angry about it, as is the person in charge of us all."

"And who might that be?" We three smoked some more, the black man the most of all, for more cover from the obvious, I guessed.

"We don't know who this commander is," I said mysteriously, to scare off our visitor and get back to work (wishful thinking, naturally). "Richard does. Apparently, this leader is trusted enough by the Underground and London. I guess somebody there might know what Richard does."

The black man nodded, putting out his cigarette under his worn-out shoes and grabbing another out of his pocket, lighting it. Then, he walked away, replaced by another man just as quickly as he left. This time, it was an Englander whose blue uniform almost matched the smoke coming out of his own cigarette. A magician, perhaps, but he was definitely a man of great talent and means.

"I don't think Burkhalter knows who we are just yet," Julius added, as if he was continuing the conversation from the black man to the Englander. "So far, he has been begging for his life in exchange for anything we want."

"In what way, mate?" the Englander asked, about to walk away as the next person came by with cigarettes (and a cover), but staying because he was more curious than cautious.

"Well, we wanted to kill him initially, but exchanging him for Ham and Cush seems to be a better idea." I put out my own cigarette, motioning that I wanted another one, but not receiving one from the man in the blue uniform and English accent.

"Colonel Hogan may just want to kill the ruddy both of you," the Englander replied roughly. "Goin' off and kidnappin' a German General is just as bloody stupid as –"

"Hey, Newkirk, what are you doing by the fence?" The Sergeant of the Guard, Schultz, soon came ambling by us, checking out the fence repairs we've made and scolding the prisoner at the same time. "You know that you're not supposed to be near the fence!"

"Ack, don't be so hard on him!" Julius exclaimed as he finished his own cigarette. "The silly Englander was being entertaining for a moment. We got a cigarette from him and got a good laugh about how they're going to win the war."

"_Ja_," I chimed in, looking amused as if the story was true. "I thought that our Fatherland was winning this war and will bring us victory."

Schultz looked at us like we were crazy indeed, like he was truly the man sitting on the fence and waiting for the victors to come forth before choosing sides. However, I also knew that Schultz himself knew about the prisoners and their odd "monkey business", but to be kind when there was no reason for him to be was humanitarian enough for a German soldier. Most stalags around here would have shot the man who trying to escape. Some might have even tortured the poor man. However, I thought that Schultz (and perhaps Klink) had a good heart.

_It's all in a day's work for good, old Germany._

"Get away from the fence, Newkirk," Schultz just said once more, about to say his usual nothing speech, but declining for some reason. "No more –"

"Monkey business," the Englander, Newkirk, finished for him. "We know, Schultzie, we know. No more monkey business!"

As Newkirk walked away, the next man was about to talk to us but noticeably walking away as well. When Julius saw the same thing I did, he turned to me. "Well, that was something."

"Things have been stranger around here. I just wonder if old Klink has something in his mind about the prisoners. Either he's totally stupid and incompetent or he's just willing to look the other way, like Schultz here." I shook my head in disbelief at both possibilities, turning back to the fence and looking over our handiwork of destruction before thinking of fixing it.

Julius, however, could not be persuaded to shut up. "Gerald, listen to me. Somebody needs to know about us and soon. Helga won't spill the beans. She's lucky that nobody around here has identified her as –"

"Shh!" I picked up some tools nearby and started fingering the fence, thinking of how to repair what we've broken. "We cannot say that word here, Julius. You know that."

"We are part of them, Gerard. Don't deny that, not even in our hour of need."

"How can I forget? Our parents and grandparents died of the same disease Europe has been spreading to us for centuries and now, this country has gone mad in trying to eliminate our race." I slowly became angry, remembering how filthy the Germans treated us, the Jews, and the sad history behind us. "Don't tell me that I cannot forget who we are because I can't. We're walking on a thin rope each day we stay here. We're walking towards a great fall because we choose to fight back and to be brave."

A guard passed us by, so I shut up. I hoped that he didn't hear anything, but nothing was said to incriminate us…yet. If so, we would have been in the Gestapo's custody or worse. We would know soon if our conversation went to other ears.

"Are you ready to get back to work?" Julius then asked me to change the topic, anxious to be in a camp where the Germans might sniff out us and brand us Jews bound for another camp.

"I have been working," I said out loud, still hoping that no guards would be thinking us traitors just yet. "You've been the one on break. Are you coming to help me keep these Allied prisoners in or are you going to ask for more cigarettes from the same prisoners? Make up your mind already!"

Julius grumbled a little, but not by much. He knew that we had a job to do and that was talking to Hogan and his men tonight. Preferably, though, we wanted just Hogan, the only man that we could trust right about now.


End file.
